The Christmas Spat
by iyimgrace
Summary: Zibbs Established. Written for Zivacentric. Things get tense between Gibbs and Ziva during the Christmas season. Humor, fluff and a huge dash of romance.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This little fluff fest is a thank you Christmas present for my dear friend Zivacentric for organizing our little Zibbs Secret Santa Exchange 2012 AND for generally being a Goddess. I wanted to challenge myself with the adorable bromance between our intrepid Bossman and the crusty old FBI agent, Fornell. They crack me up when they're together, like an old married couple. You can count on the snark and some good laughs when Fornell is around. And of course there's some sexy Ziva in there too._

_Hugs, marshmallows and all things fluffy for you my dearest! _

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Gibbs stared at his reflection in the mirror. He ran the razor over his cheek down to his jaw. Once, twice. With a flick of his wrist, he shook the shaving cream into the sink. And then repeated the move. He went to start the other side but Ziva slipped under his arm and positioned herself in the small space between him and the bathroom counter.

"Shaving here." He grunted. "Sharp razor, skin. No coffee yet."

She pursed her lips into that sexy little pout that usually meant she wanted something.

He sighed. "What?"

"Tomorrow night is the NCIS Christmas party. You still have not told me if you are going to go." Her small hands played at the sides of his waist. If he wasn't already in a grouchy mood, it would have tickled.

Gibbs rolled his eyes and shoved her aside.

"Jethro…"

"Ziver…" He put a little extra growl on it in hopes she'd drop it. No such luck.

"A simple 'yes' or 'no' would suffice."

He eyed her and continued to shave the rest of his face. "No."

"Why not?"

He bit back another frustrated growl. They had been through this already. Twice. "You said simple. The answer is 'no'."

She grabbed her toothbrush from the holder with a little more force than normal. Her movements were jerky as she spread toothpaste on the bristles. "I do not see what the big deal is. It is after work. You will already be there. All you have to do is make an appearance."

"And put on a tux. Not doing it." He rinsed his razor and placed it back in the cabinet.

She brushed her teeth so furiously the enamel should have worn clean off. Best to stay clear, he stepped back into the bedroom and took out his tweed blazer, blue golf shirt and brown belt. He heard the water turn off and her bare feet pad back into the room.

"Is it because you don't want to be seen with me?"

"Excuse me?" His head almost cracked a vertebra it spun around so quickly. Ok, now he was pissed. He didn't want to fight about it, was avoiding it in fact, but now the gloves were off.

"Well it could be the only answer."

"Answer to what?"

"Why you will not go to the party with me."

"I'm not going to a damn party to stand around in a monkey suit to talk with obnoxious people I don't like. That's all. Nothing more."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

She rounded the corner of the bed and pulled on a pair of pants––his favorite ones––the dark gray ones that hugged her ass in all the right places. Little minx. She did that on purpose. She then stepped into a pair of shoes and pulled a cream colored blouse over her head. Her movements were now highly agitated and her eyes spit fire at him. Right now, he couldn't even enjoy a look at her perfect little ass. No, he was caught between being really pissed at her for pushing the damn party issue and for being ridiculous about thinking he didn't care enough about her. Was she serious?

"We have not told the team about us. It has been almost a year." She all but shouted at him. "They are our friends. They will be at the party. Would it really be so bad?"

"Yes."

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes popped to the size of saucers. The stricken look on her face twisted his stomach. Gibbs swallowed. Shit. He didn't mean what she thought he meant. Far, far from it.

"I see."

"Ziver…"

She held her hand up. "No. Do not."

"That's not what I meant." This had really gone downhill and fast.

"Forget I even asked."

"Gladly."

Dammit. That was exactly what he wanted in the first place. For her to just forget about it. But now she was upset and he was pissed and it wasn't even 0700 yet.

From the corner of his eye, he tracked her movements. She pulled the brush through her hair and tied it up in an elastic. The ponytail was so tight on her head he thought her eyebrows might disappear. He was slipping his feet into his shoes when she stomped out of the room and down the stairs without a second look.

He tied his laces quick and followed her. She was gathering her rucksack and her coat by the time he hit the bottom riser. She yanked the door open but he slammed it shut with his hand above her head.

"It's not what I meant."

"No, I know what you meant." Her dark brown eyes were as frigid as the morning air outside. "You do not want to go to the party. Fine. I get that. But I cannot help but wonder when we will tell everyone about us. I am tired of snooping around."

"We're not _sneaking_ around." He ignored her glare at his subtle correction. "It's no one's business."

She huffed in a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she looked back at him after a moment, her eyes softened but she stuck a finger in his face. "Soon."

He pulled a face rather than commit to anything. Not here, not now. And definitely not after that. They were at a stalemate. She cocked an eyebrow at him and nodded to his hand. He removed it with a laugh. He couldn't help it––she was adorable when she got all feisty. He wanted to kiss that scowl right off her face, but he figured it was best to just keep a wide berth. So he let her go.

She yanked the door open, almost hit him in the nose with it and stopped dead. Gibbs dodged the edge of the door and was met with her full-on glare.

And Fornell's eyes.

"Well, well, well. Working late or early?" The FBI agent made a show of checking his watch. Gibbs didn't have to look at his, he knew full well it was 0645.

"What are you doing here Tobias?"

"I was coming to pick you up to get coffee on our way to the crime scene, but it seems I'm not the only one who had that idea."

"We were not having coffee," Ziva said.

Fornell grinned. "Oh, I don't doubt that."

Gibbs cringed. Ziva's mouth gapped and she volleyed a look between him and Fornell and back again. She let out a high pitch growl between her teeth and stared at Gibbs like it was his fault Fornell showed up on his doorstep. He just couldn't win today. When he glared back at her, she pushed past the FBI agent on the stoop towards her car. And just like that, they were back to square one.

Tobias swiveled to watch her go. "Did I interrupt anything?"

Gibbs pulled the door shut and dug his keys out of his pocket. "Don't ask."

They walked toward the government issue Charger parked in Gibbs driveway. He often kept the car in his possession instead of returning it to the motor pool. Last night was a particularly late night. Fornell slid into the passenger seat and Gibbs drove off.

It was blessedly silent for five minutes. And then…

"So… you and Ziva?"

Gibbs slid him an icy sidelong glance.

"I'll take you're non-answer and the death glare as confirmation." Tobias stared out the front windshield with a smug grin on his face. Then he laughed. "You old dog, you!"

Gibbs refused to give him the satisfaction of a response.

"How long has this been going on? Is it new? Though by how infuriated she looked, that must mean the honeymoon period is over and she's gotten to know the real you, so I'm gonna guess at least six months. Probably ten."

Gibbs stared at him. Damn him. Observant bastard.

"What'd you do to piss her off?" Tobias chuckled. "Or rather what _didn't_ you do?"

Gibbs drove for a while in silence, stewing, deliberating. If there was anyone who knew him well enough, his horrendous track record with women, it was Tobias. And for as much as he hated to admit it, they were somewhat friends. Not that he needed advice. Because he wasn't going to that party if it killed him.

"Christmas party. Tuxedo. Not going."

"Ah. You sure you guys didn't get married and not send me an invitation?"

Gibbs huffed and shook his head. He knew he shouldn't have shared. Sharing is _not_ caring.

"Well, all I have to say is, if you want to continue to 'get some' with that exotic hot…"

"Watch it."

"Gorgeous woman," he quickly amended. "You had better get yourself dressed up in a monkey suit and play nice."

"No. I'm not doing it."

"You know she's Mossad right?"

"She's not Mossad anymore, she's NCIS."

"Which makes what you're doing completely complicated, by the way." He chanced a look at him. "Don't you have a rule about that?"

"Rule 51, 'sometimes you're wrong'."

"Well isn't that a convenient loophole."

Gibbs pulled into the crime scene and slammed the car into park. "Tobias, shut up."

They exited the car. Fornell leaned his arm against the roof and hollered to him. "And for the record, you're completely in the wrong."

"Always am," Gibbs muttered to himself. He pulled on his baseball cap and stalked over to his team. "What do we got?"


	2. Chapter 2

Two days. Not quite forty-eight hours, but she hadn't spoken more than four words to him. Other than what was needed to communicate about the case, which they had conveniently wrapped up just in time for tonight's festivities.

"I'm going without you," she'd said.

Fine, Gibbs could live with that. It's what he wanted in the first place. No, that wasn't true. He wanted to be home, spend the night with her on the couch, and give her his present. If she would rather spend it out, that was fine with him. He'd give her his present tomorrow morning before they headed up to his father's for Christmas dinner. Not that she'd really want to see the gift now that she was so pissed at him. But what could he do? She insisted on going.

"You're really going to let her go alone?" Fornell stirred the pot of pasta sauce simmering on the stove. The man was like gum on a shoe––he just couldn't get rid of him.

"Ya-huh." Gibbs sipped his beer.

"Your stubborn ass is going to make you die a lonely old man."

"How is that even possible with you hanging around?"

"I'm hurt." Fornell glanced over the kitchen towel on his shoulder. "At least with me around, you won't starve to death."

He had him there. Tobias did make a pretty good meal. It was a damn sight better than a can of beans. The only other times he actually ate well were when the woman upstairs cooked for him. He liked that little ritual. She was a good cook.

Fornell cooked in silence and Gibbs worked a crossword puzzle at the table. Gibbs shook his head at the irony. Weren't they two pathetic old men in a shoe?

He heard her high heels on the wooden steps as they echoed down the hall. When she rounded the corner into the kitchen, Gibbs' breath caught in chest, beer bottle halfway to his lips.

She was gorgeous. Like he knew she would be. He just never expected her to be so damn sexy too. What the hell? It was an office Christmas party for crying out loud.

She had on a short, tight dress that looked like it was made out of electric blue stretch bandages. The whole thing wrapped and hugged every curve, every land and valley that he had the pleasure of mapping with his tongue. The weird fabric shined in the light and contrasted with her beautiful, smooth skin. The skirt made her legs look like they went on for miles before they ended in her very high, very strappy glittery sandals. He squinted his eyes over the edge of his glasses. Even her toenails were painted.

Red. They were red.

Gibbs swallowed.

She stopped at the threshold of the kitchen. Her hands closed the clasps on a silver little bag as she walked. Her hair was up in a sleek, more elegant than normal, ponytail and her eyelids were painted in a sparkling blue. Her skin was shiny clean and had a shimmer to it that wasn't her usual glow. She looked elegant and graceful and much more beautiful than he deserved.

"I am leaving now." She announced it like she was giving him one more chance to accept. His eyes skimmed the tops of her breasts at the neckline all the way down those legs. If he looked one more time at her toes, he just might acquiesce.

He cleared his throat and rested his hand on the table to ground him to his convictions.

"Have fun."

"Oh, I will."

And with that, she turned on her heel, grabbed her wrap from the hook in the hall and left.

Fornell slapped the back of his head. "You. Idiot."

"What?"

"You're going to let her just walk out the door in _that dress_?"

"I just did."

Fornell shook his head. "If you know what's good for you, _you'll run_, not walk, upstairs and get your shriveled-up old ass into a suit and tie and go after that gorgeous woman before someone else does."

Gibbs was ready with a retort. But he didn't say anything. He just looked at Tobias for a minute. The grizzled old FBI agent gave him a pointed stare and set his jaw. When Gibbs didn't respond, he raised his eyebrows. And waved his hands at him to shoo him out of the kitchen.

"Get up or I'm gonna shoot your ass!" His friend bellowed.

Gibbs unfolded himself from the creaky old chair with reluctance. And a bit of trepidation. He ran his hand over his mouth and scratched his chin.

Fornell continued to glare at him. "Ten months right?"

"Yeah."

"Do you love her?"

Did he?

He––_they_––hadn't said it. She'd been such a part of his life for a long time. He cared for her, even before he _cared_ for her. When Vance sent her back to Israel after Jenny died, his heart ached more than it should have. When she walked away from him and their team in Tel Aviv, he felt betrayed. When he shot the man who tortured her, he avenged her pain because he was compelled to. He hated to see her hurting, wanted to take her pain and absorb it for himself. Her smile lit up his day and since he'd woken up to it nearly every morning, he'd been…happy.

He'd been happy.

He stared at Tobias open mouthed.

"Go."

Gibbs did.


	3. Chapter 3

Ziva smiled and sipped at her glass of champagne. Though she was a dyed in the wool Jew, she enjoyed the sparkle of the twinkling lights and the scent of pine from the boughs that draped across the plate glass windows. There was something so enchanting about the holidays. She was determined to enjoy herself tonight. With or without him.

Tony spun around on his debonair shoes and danced his way over to her, singing along to the Frank Sinatra Christmas song overhead. He sashayed to a stop right in front of her.

"Hello, Zee-vah."

"Hello, Tony."

"Here stag tonight?"

"I do not look like a horse, Tony."

"A stag is a male deer, Ziva. And it means you're here alone."

"Yes, Tony. I am here alone." She peered around his shoulder. There was not a young, beautiful woman in the vicinity. "As are you."

"It's early yet."

"Mmm." Ziva murmured.

"Where's the mystery guy?"

"What mystery guy?"

"The one you've been all secretive about. The one you don't talk about. Ever."

"I do not know what you are talking about, Tony." Ziva kept straight eye contact with him. If she looked away, he would know for certain she was lying.

"Oh no no, don't play coy with me, our little ninja assassin. You've been in a good mood, for a while now. You simper."

Ziva blurted out an incredulous laugh. "I do not simper. I have never simpered."

"There are mornings you come in here and glow. Women don't just 'glow' without the _afterglow_. Know what I mean?" He waggled his eyebrows at her.

"No. I do not know what you mean."

"Sex, Zee-vah. The afterglow of _sex_."

Ziva rolled her eyes in exasperation. Was there no end to his obsessive gossip mongering? "Honestly, Tony."

"Ziva! Tony!" Abby rushed over carrying a tray of short plastic glasses with McGee in tow. She was dressed in a red and green striped goth-girl elf dress over fishnet stockings, her big black boots complete with a matching Santa hat and Christmas light earrings that actually lit up. "There you are!" Her beaming smile brightened the room even more.

"Abby, you look adorable," Ziva told her.

"And you look dangerously sexy." She returned the compliment with a saucy wink.

"Happy Holidays, Ziva." McGee leaned in and placed a sweet kiss on her cheek.

She placed her hand on his coat sleeve. "Merry Christmas, McGee."

Abby lifted the tray toward both Ziva and Tony. "Here, try my Uncle Charlie's famous, well more like infamous, eggnog."

"Infamous?" Tony questioned and then took a sip. He coughed and pounded his fist to his chest. "Now it all makes sense."

"Eggnog?" Ziva examined the concoction in the cup. A sniff confirmed the amount of alcohol in it. She blinked. It smelled like Gibbs and some spices.

"Yes. Eggnog, a traditional beverage consumed during the festive holidays made of cream, sugar, nutmeg, spirits and whipped eggs, hence the egg." Ducky arrived in a smart tuxedo and a holiday colored bowtie. Ziva smiled at the medical examiner's encyclopedic wealth of knowledge. "The 'nog' part interestingly enough, comes from the Middle English term for a small carved wooden cup used to serve alcohol."

Ducky's stories made him endearing. She half expected to hear Gibbs cut him off. But he was not here to do so. Ziva stifled a frown. She stared off at the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree and tuned out the story. The sounds of the party, people laughing, chatting and partaking in merriment sounded around her. She could not help but wish…

"Where's Gibbs?" A man's deep voice cut through Ziva's musings. Director Vance.

Tony chuckled and tucked his hand into his trouser pocket. "Gibbs never shows up to these things."

"He hates all of the talking and the happy lights and the talking." Abby gestured with her hands as she often did to emphasize her point.

Director Vance looked smart in his tuxedo as well, his wife Jackie smiled lovingly on his arm.

"He should be here," Vance said.

"Oh now, Leon, I don't blame him one bit," Jackie said. "He doesn't seem like the kind of man who wants to mingle around a party making small talk."

Ziva heard the woman's words at first. And then they sunk in. Really sunk in. This woman who hardly saw Gibbs knew him, at his very essence, better than the woman who spent almost every night in his bed. She turned away and closed her eyes. How could she have been so blind? So ignorant? She pushed and pushed and accused him of not caring enough about her. Her stomach roiled. She was an idiot.

Ziva placed her champagne glass on the nearest surface and walked away.

"Ziva?" Abby called after her. "She must be going to the little girl's room."

Her footsteps quickened as she neared the elevator. She needed to get back to him… back home.

She must apologize. Even though he would never accept it. _Never apologize, it's a sign of weakness_. If loving him for all of his faults was weakness, then so be it.

The ding of the bell sounded and the elevator doors slid open.

Ziva stopped.

There he was.

His clear blue eyes twinkled at her, his trademark half-smirk on his lips.

Ziva's heart stuttered. He was devastating in a black suit, blue shirt and navy tie. He had never looked so handsome.

"You came."

He nodded. "I did."

"Why?" The whispered breath escaped her lips.

"Couldn't be away from my family on Christmas Eve."

He placed his hand at the small of her back and slid into step beside her. He ushered her back through to the bullpen where the Christmas tree was located. As soon as Abby laid eyes on him, she squealed in delight.

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs. You made it." Ziva stepped out of the way as the woman threw her arms around Gibbs in an enthusiastic embrace.

"Hey, Boss." McGee smiled cheerfully.

"Merry Christmas, Boss." Tony stuck his hand out for a shake.

"Jethro, what a pleasant surprise." Ducky shook his hand and clasped his arm with the other.

"Gibbs, glad you could make it." Vance greeted him. Jackie gave him a hug and a kiss.

"To what do we owe this pleasure?" Ducky asked.

"I'm sure he has his reasons." Ziva ran her hand along the back of her neck. "Why don't we give him some breathing room. The man just arrived."

She went to step away but was halted by his hand on her wrist. He gently pulled her back beside him. Close but not terribly close. Then he placed his hand on the back of her neck. She froze.

It did not go unnoticed by Tony––the hand nor her stillness.

Ziva was unsure of what to do. In light of their discussion two days ago, he was not ready to expose their relationship. He made that perfectly clear. At least she thought that was what he wanted. Yet, here he was touching her in a familiar––almost intimate––manner. He was talking about something, Ziva had no idea, when he suddenly smiled at her and her heart flip-flopped like it always did when he flashed that full toothy grin at her. Usually it was in private––and naked. She gave him a curious look.

"So, boss, you never did say what brought you here." Tony sipped his nog.

"Came here to deliver a present, Dinozzo."

Abby clapped her hands excitedly. "Ooo, Gibbs presents!"

Gibbs smiled and pressed a sweet kiss to the forensic genius's forehead. "Sorry Abbs. It's not for you."

"Oh…" Her smile faltered but she recovered it and then was caught up in the mystery of whom it might belong to. Her eyes grew large. "Who's the lucky person?"

Ziva was curios too. Gibbs was not one for public displays of anything. So who, more importantly, what could he not have waited to give?

Suddenly, his hand trailed down her arm and took her hand as he knelt down on one knee right in front of her.

There was a collective gasp among the group.

Ziva narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you doing?"

He stared up at her, his eyes sparkled like ice crystals. A bashful grin tipped at the corner of his mouth. Ziva's heart sped up and her hands began to shake involuntarily.

"I'm not one for a lot of words. And I hold my thoughts pretty close to the chest." He swallowed. "But when something needs to be acknowledged, I don't walk away."

Abby squealed and bounced up and down. She whispered. "Oh my God."

"Ziva David, I am one hundred percent an ass, always will be. But, I thank everyday that you decide I'm worth it. I love you with every bit of what's left of my heart. Please do me the honor of being the fifth and final Mrs. Gibbs."

Tears sprung, filling her eyes. Her perfect vision of him staring up at her with such love and honesty swam and blurred beneath them. One tear spilled over the edge and soon her cheeks were damp from their streams. Her lips and face had a mind of its own as she smiled uncontrollably. He was so beautiful she thought her heart might burst. Never in her life would she have imagined they would be at this point together.

Somehow, he was right in front of her, holding her, cupping his hand along her jaw. She gripped the sleeves of his coat for fear she might crumble into quivering heap in the middle of the floor.

"So what's it going to be?" Someone shouted from the crowd.

"Yes." Her breath caught in her throat on a sob. "Most definitely, yes."

His arms pulled her into a tight hug and the world slipped away. There was nothing but the two of them and sea of twinkling lights. His scent, the one she so ardently adored––bourbon, shaving cream and sawdust––surrounded her and made her head swirl.

His lips pressed against her temple. "I love you Ziver. More than I ever should."

"I love you too, Jethro. More than I should."

They shared a laugh, staring into each other's eyes.

"Ring, ring, ring!" The crowd began to chant.

Gibbs' chuckle reverberated deep in his chest against the front of her dress.

He lowered his voice and spoke only to her. "Wanted to give this to you tonight at home, but you had other plans."

"Jethro, I am so sorry."

"Shhh." He placed a finger on her lips. "As someone pointed out to me, I'm a stubborn old ass."

"Agent Fornell?"

"Yah. Sometimes he's got a point."

She blinked at the tears moistening her lashes and held her left hand up to him. "I believe you have something for me."

He laughed and tucked his hand into his coat pocket. He extracted a black velvet box and cracked it open to reveal a sparkling diamond nestled in an antique style setting. It reminded Ziva of her safta's ring and her heart squeezed anew. There was no way he could have known, but it touched her deeper than he could have intended, nonetheless.

"Oh Jethro, it's beautiful."

He slid the ring onto her left ring finger and kissed her knuckles. The crowd cheered. Overcome with passion and love for this amazing man, Ziva curled her fingers around the back of his head and pulled him in for a deep, soul igniting kiss. Catcalls and hoots echoed in the background as their tongues mingled and slid together. She kissed him long and slow until he was breathless with craving. She could feel it in the way his fingers kneaded into the flesh at the small of her back. When she pulled away, his eyes churned with desire in a rich smoky blue.

They were soon swept up in a sea of congratulatory remarks. Ziva exchanged hugs with the people who had become her family while Gibbs shook hands and graciously accepted pats on the back.

Director Vance shook his head. He wore that grin that said he was both exasperated and happy for them at the same time. The handshake he shared with Gibbs was clipped, but the other hand placed on the older man's arm exemplified the warmth and affection his words did not. "You sure know how to make my job difficult, Gibbs. What am I supposed to do with you two now?"

"Leave it the way it is, Leon." Gibbs said. "She's not leaving the team. We've made it work for almost a year and you had no idea. Not gonna be any different now."

The director huffed a laugh. "We'll see how it goes."

"Oh Leon, let them have their moment and talk the business end later," his wife admonished.

Ziva placed a hand on her arm in thanks. They could indeed deal with the logistics of their new status later, though she suspected that Jethro would make sure that nothing changed now or in the future.

Tony came up next to her and walked her toward the window. "No mystery man? You sneaky little liar."

"I have not lied to you Tony."

"Oh? How do explain that you and the boss have been doing the horizontal mambo for almost a year and none of us had the slightest clue?"

"You said mystery man, Tony. Gibbs is well known to all of us."

"Semantics."

"Are you not happy for us?"

Her partner gave her a genuine smile. "Congratulations, Ziva."

"Thank you, Tony."

Tony slipped back into the crowd and Ziva returned to her future husband's side. His arm curled around her waist and he kissed her neck. "Can we go home now?"

"Yes, please."

They said their goodbyes and made their way to the elevator, all the while his arm remained firmly around her. He looked up at the numbers while they waited for it to arrive. "Hopefully Tobias left his pasta and went home. Don't think I'm gonna make it upstairs to take you out of that dress."

A shiver of desire tingled all the way to her toes at his words. "You like my dress?"

"Yah huh." He glanced at her toes. "Like the toenail polish more."

Ziva grinned. She squeezed his arm and leaned in close to his ear. "If you like that, I think you will be excited to know that I am not wearing any underwear."

He arched an eyebrow at her and a seductive smile crept over his lips. "Merry Christmas to me."

"Merry Christmas indeed."


End file.
